by Aly Martinez
“Yeah. Go for it.”
“What’s your problem with Till and Eliza? Quarry told me they basically raised you guys and how you got shot and stuff, but why don’t you talk to them or anything now?”
I let out a loud huff. Of course she would ask that question. The one question I honestly didn’t have an answer to. Well, I did—but it wasn’t one I wanted to explain to her.
“I don’t know. Just some family shit, I guess.”
“Are they, like, total assholes?” She pushed up on her elbows and turned to look at me. It was the oddest thing I had ever seen. She appeared downright hopeful.
I tilted my head curiously. “Not at all.”
“Did they, like, hit you and stuff when you were growing up?”
“What? No way!”
“Oh,” she said, deflated, as she reclined again.
“What gave you that idea?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Q always talks about them. He mentioned that you avoid them at all costs. So I was thinking maybe they were pricks and Quarry just didn’t see it yet.”
“No. Till’s . . .” I started, but the words lodged in my throat. “Great. He’s like a father to me.”
“Is Eliza a bitch? I know you don’t like her very much.”
I barked out a laugh. “What? Why do you think that?”
“I don’t know. You get all weird and cranky when Q mentions her.”
I looked away.
The moments that followed would later become one of my biggest regrets with Ash. No matter how many times I’d try to rationalize my actions that night, they’d never add up. The only thing I’d figured was that Ash always made things lighter for me. Gravity didn’t keep me pinned to my wheelchair when I was with her. She freed me, and back then—when it came to Eliza—I needed that more than anything else.
“No. Eliza’s pretty incredible.” I paused and turned my head to face her.
She was still staring up at the sky, and her long, strawberry-blond hair fanned out beside her. The bright moon illuminated her white skin.
She was so beautiful.
She deserved to know what the hell she was getting into with me.
So, for some incredibly ridiculous reason, I admitted, “I’ve been in love with Eliza for years. It’s just easier to avoid her.”
Only the second the words were spoken, it didn’t feel like an admission at all.
It didn’t feel like anything actually.
Not the truth.
Or a lie.
They just felt like words.
“Ewwww!” Ash cried. “You’re in love with your mom?”
“No. She’s not my mom,” I defended.
“You said she and Till raised you guys.”
“I mean, they did. But . . . she’s not my mom.”
“Whatever you think.” She laughed and went back to staring at the stars.
She didn’t speak again for several minutes, and it began to unnerve me. I regretted my decision to tell her. I mean, what the actual hell had I possibly thought I could gain from sharing something like that?
Hey, look. I’m disabled and in love with another woman. Please be with me?
“I mean, it’s not like I’m trying to be with her or anything,” I clarified. “Really, it’s no big deal.”
“Nah. I get it. You have an Oedipus complex?”
“I don’t have an Oedipus complex! She’s not my mom!” I yelled, and she burst out laughing.
That conversation with anyone else would have sent me into a fit of rage, but watching Ash roll around in some dirty weeds while she laughed so hard that tears spilled from her eyes did the opposite.
I didn’t even feel numb.
I felt everything for the first time in as long as I could remember.
Probably too much, actually.
Maybe Ash wasn’t a thief at all.
Because she had given me back far more than she could ever take.
Every single word of his confession was like a jagged knife to the heart.
I tried to keep my reaction locked away, but when the tears fell from my eyes, I covered it with a large dose of artificial laughter. I could con Flint into thinking it was funny, but there was nothing I could do to con myself.
I was in love with Flint Page.
And he was in love with someone else.
I didn’t have much experience with relationships. As far as I was concerned, fairytales were real and love only came once in a lifetime, and I had just used mine on a boy who had already given his to another girl.
It didn’t matter that he could never have her. Or that he was watching me with a warm, content smile unlike anything I’d ever seen. All I’d heard in his admission was that I would never truly have him.
I wished I had never asked him about Eliza. I could have lived a thousand lifetimes without knowing how he felt about her. Or, better yet, how he didn’t feel about me. But I hadn’t once expected that to be his answer. I’d just wanted some dirt on her and Till. Dirt that would make me feel better about allowing my father to take Quarry from them.
Only hours earlier, I’d overheard—or, more accurately, recorded—a conversation between Ray and Debbie. It should be known that I’d seen my father do a lot of despicable things, but Debbie had taken it to a whole new level. She knew precisely how much Till loved his brothers and exactly how far he would go to keep his family together. Till probably would have paid them a hefty sum of money to disappear or sign the custody paperwork. However, what Debbie had masterminded had guaranteed a whole lot more than just a hefty sum. The plan was simple. Get custody of Quarry, move him across the country, and cut Till off completely. Then, after a few months, once Till and Eliza got desperate, basically sell him back to them.
They were both aware that getting actual custody of Q wasn’t going to be an easy feat. No judge in his right mind would place him with loser Debbie Mabie over celebrity “The Silencer” Till Page. But just last week, a judge and a date had been assigned to Quarry’s custody case. My father had called in some favors, and within twenty-four hours, he’d had more than enough pictures of that judge with his mistress to secure a win for Team Mabie. With part one done, I knew that part two would be moving. And while I had already decided I wasn’t going with them this time, I knew that Q wouldn’t have that choice.
My conscience had needed Till and Eliza to be assholes who deserved that.
Unfortunately, I’d gotten far more than I’d bargained for.
He was in love with her.
“Thank you,” Flint said as I finally got my emotions under control and was able to give up the show of laughter.
“For what?”
“Being weird. And making me lie under the stars on a pile of weeds.” He brushed a hair off my face. “And for calling me Wheels.”
My head snapped to his. “You hate that nickname.”
“Yeah. It’s really fucking rude.” He laughed. “But it’s also a truth that doesn’t necessarily have to be taken as an insult. You’ve never pitied me, Ash. Not even for being a sad bastard with an Oedipus complex.”
“I have a freakish toe,” I announced.
Flint bit his lip to stifle a laugh. “Oh yeah?” he asked, amused. Then he slid an arm under my neck and pulled me against his side, shifting me awkwardly until my head rested on his chest.
“Yep. It’s, like, way shorter than the others. I would hope you wouldn’t pity me for it.”
His shoulders shook as he kissed the top of my head. “Maybe I should start calling you Toes.” His foot gently tapped on the sole of my shoe.
“Oh my God! Flint, you moved your legs!” I screamed, suddenly sitting up. My eyes must have been huge, because he looked at me like I had transformed into a maniac. “It’s a miracle!” I proclaimed.
He laughed, shaking his head.
“You want to get up and try to walk?” I asked in all seriousness. “Come on. I’ll help.” I grabbed his arms and started pulling.
“Ash, stop. I ca
n’t walk.”
“Would it help if I start singing ‘Eye of the Tiger’? You’re a boxer. That’s a very inspirational song.”
He barked out a loud laugh and yanked on my arm, forcing me back down. His mouth landed on mine before his smile even had a chance to disappear. Holding me against his lips, he breathed deeply for several seconds. I kept my eyes open, but his were reverently closed. I wasn’t completely sure what was going through his mind, but I had a feeling it was something big, a fact that was confirmed when his eyes opened and stared so fiercely into mine that I felt as though he were branding me from the inside out.
It was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life.
He could love her. I could learn to be okay with that. Because as his eyes held mine, I knew I’d never belong to anyone else, something I needed more than any love he could ever provide.
Releasing my mouth, he whispered against my lips, “I can move my legs.”
“Oh,” I breathed, still reeling from our moment.
“I mean, a little bit. It takes a lot of concentration, and they don’t do much, but . . .” He paused, and his foot lifted an inch before falling back to the ground.
“Oh,” I repeated.
“But I do appreciate your offer to sing,” he teased.
I started to roll back to my spot on the grass, but Flint held me tight, forcing me to lie tucked against his side—something I loved so much that I instinctually avoided it at all costs. I simply couldn’t allow myself to get used to the way my whole body warmed or the feeling of security he gave me with the simple drape of his arm. I knew that, if I ever lost it, I’d never be able to enjoy my life in the cold world that was left behind. I didn’t need to know how truly amazing life could be at his side.
Rolling away, I asked, “Do you think you’ll ever be able to walk again?”
He let out a groan that I thought had more to do with me moving than the question. “I don’t know. I hope so, but I’m not sure. I mean, my doctors say it’s promising that I can move my legs. But I try not to get my hopes up. Disappointment’s a real bitch.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I answered, remembering his little revelation about Eliza.
“It is what it is,” he said, dismissing the topic as he scooted over an inch and pulled me back against his side.
That time, I didn’t move away. Instead, I gave myself a minute to dream of a future with Flint. It was the best dream I had ever made up—and a dream that would later turn into a nightmare, haunting me for years to come.
Me: What are you doing today?
Ash: Sitting on your couch?
Me: Excellent answer.
Ash: I’m glad you approve.
Me: You want to go to a birthday party with me?
Ash: Oh. My. God! I’ve never been to a birthday party!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Wow! That’s a lot of exclamation points!
Ash: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: You done yet?
Ash: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Should I wait for an answer or just assume the exclamation points are a yes?
Ash: !!!!!!! Ok. I’m done now. !!!! Sorry those just slipped.
Me: So . . . party?
Ash: Yes, I’ll go! Q told me there was going to be a clown and a bounce house.
Me: Probably.
Ash: Pick me up at 12:30. We need to stop so I can get a present.
Me: Cool. See you then.
Ash: <3 <3 <3
I tossed my phone on counter and stared at the invitation to Blakely Page’s first birthday sitting on the table in front of me. It seemed my secret whereabouts weren’t all that secret anymore. I wasn’t sure if Quarry or Slate had finally spilled my address, but earlier that morning, I’d opened the front door to find Till standing on my welcome mat. He hadn’t said a single word as he’d handed me the invitation, but the muscles in his neck had strained, letting me know he’d had a ton of pissed-off words to say and was struggling to keep them under wraps—a fact I immensely appreciated.
He’d slowly backed away, pausing just before he turned toward the parking lot.
“I know for a fact that fucking door works. Use it,” he’d gritted out before disappearing.
I’d sat there staring at the pink envelope in my hand while Till’s old truck rumbled away. He was a millionaire and he still drove that hunk of junk everywhere. Eliza drove a top-of-the-line SUV, and even the van he’d bought me had every possible bell and whistle imaginable. Yet Till still drove the same truck that had already been a piece of shit when he’d bought it years earlier.
That’s my brother.
And for the first time since the accident, thinking about Till actually stung.
Well, that’s not totally true. Thinking about Till used to do far more than sting. It used to devour me. However, this time, it stung in a different way.
The pain I felt was from guilt instead of resentment.
Even the idea of seeing Eliza didn’t send me into some sort of panic.
It was time.
I was finally going back.
And she was going with me.
When I arrived to pick Ash up, my mouth gaped open as she sauntered out of the house. She had always been a jeans-and-T-shirt kind of girl, but that day, she had clearly stepped it up a notch. She was wearing a short, red sundress that exposed a tasteful amount of cleavage. Well, tasteful in the sense that it guaranteed I would, in fact, be tasting it again that night—and hopefully other places as well. Instead of her usual flip-flops or flats, she was wearing tall, strappy wedge sandals that immediately hardened my cock. The front of her hair was twisted back, and bright-red lipstick painted her lips, making her look like she had stepped off the front of a 1950s pinup calendar.
She looked incredible.
And as a wide smile spread across her face, she made me feel incredible.
After a long stop at the toy store, where Ash had insisted on asking a mother carting around a toddler to help us shop for Blakely, we finally arrived at Till and Eliza’s house.
Ash’s eyes all but popped out of her head as we drove through the security gate. But the second I saw that house, my nerves hit in full force.
“C’mere,” I said to Ash as soon as I parked. Pulling her into a hard kiss she enthusiastically returned, I traced up her long legs and under the edge of her dress. “You look beautiful,” I murmured.
“So you’ve mentioned.” She giggled, and my nerves started to fade away.
“Just making sure you heard me.” I released her, and she grabbed a wipe from her purse and cleaned the lipstick from my mouth for approximately the twentieth time since I’d picked her up.
I took a deep breath, and with Ash at my side, we headed toward the party.
When we got to the backyard, I ran into a myriad of familiar faces.
“Did the world end and I somehow missed it?” Slate said dryly, walking over from where Erica was watching their kids in the bounce house.
“Hey,” I replied, embarrassed, remembering how I’d spoken to him that day in my apartment.
“I’m glad you came, son.” He squeezed my neck.
“Hey, listen, I’m really sorry about—” I started, but he interrupted me.
“Who’s this?” he asked, extending a hand over my shoulder.
“Oh sorry. This is my . . .” I stalled, trying to figure out what to call her. Oh, fuck it. We all knew who she was. “This is my girlfriend, Ash. Ash, this is Slate Andrews. He owns On The Ropes with Till.” I looked up to find her staring down at me in absolute awe. I tossed her a puzzled expression, but she didn’t explain.
“Hi! So nice to meet you.” She took Slate’s hand.
Judging by the slight tip of his head, he had witnessed her strange reaction. Whatever. I could worry about that later, because suddenly, as if a ring announcer had just spouted my introduction to the entire party, dozens of eyes all flashed my way.
I could feel them watching me, but my attention was homed in on a pair of dark blu
es boring into mine from only a few feet away. Her eyes instantly pooled with tears, and an ache grew in my chest.
But it wasn’t my heart that hurt.
And it wasn’t agonizing.
It was just there.
Lingering.
Then, with my eyes still focused on the object of my obsession for most of my adolescence, Ash’s hand closed over mine, and I was hit by a sudden rush of that same ache ebbing from my body—freeing me.
Eliza warily approached, repeatedly glancing down to where Ash’s hand covered mine. She didn’t attempt to say anything as she stood there with tears streaming down her cheeks.
A small smile tipped my lips. “Stop crying. I promised I’d come back, didn’t I?”
And that was it. She launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around my neck. She held me for several seconds, half crying, half laughing. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the ease and relief I felt from her embrace.
Till appeared and attempted to peel Eliza off me, but she was crying so hard that it was almost comical. Well, that was until I saw the utter devastation covering Ash’s face.
Shit.
I had been wrong.
I couldn’t handle it at all.
I didn’t care that Flint had more than shown that I belonged to him, that he was proud to have me on his arm. And I didn’t care that he would never in a million years have Eliza as anything more than a sister-in-law. I knew how he felt, and that was more than enough to shatter whatever childish dreams I had invented and replayed every single minute of every single day.
Watching him breathe so deeply, as if he could inhale her. That was mine. And if I’d had to witness the branding blaze of his eyes when he opened them, I would have more than self-destructed.
Thankfully, Quarry chose that exact moment to offer me an escape.
“Ash!” he yelled from several yards away. He was waving his hands and pointing at the clown making balloon animals for the kids. “Told you!”
“Excuse me,” I addressed the group, and then I hurriedly clomped away.
The one fucking day I wore heels, I had to march across what might as well have been a football field of grass. Although I only actually marched for about three steps before my ankle rolled and sent me crashing to the ground.
